Alicia Davis may be America's first state-funded defense attorney
for parents accused of abuse by the same state's own child
protective services. She assumes office this week as Utah's director
of the Office of Child Welfare Parental Defense.

The local press has already dubbed Davis "the Parent Czar," but
skeptics wonder if she can effectively protect parental rights. Some
wonder whether her positionapparently created as a last minute
addition to a billis a compromise that won't work?

Davis' post as "parent czar" was created partly in response to the
case of Daren and Barbara Jensen, who became embroiled in Utah's
child protective services system when their 12-year-old son Parker
was diagnosed with cancer. The Jensens declined a recommended
49-week course of chemotherapy, preferring to exhaust medical
options with other doctors. Utah's Division of Child and Family
Services attempted to remove Parker from the custody of his parents.

The charges against the Jensens were ultimately dropped, and Parker
is reportedly in remission. However, the case became a lightning rod
that galvanized a crusade to strengthen and protect parental rightsand
has made Utah a rallying point for the cause of defending
parental rights against unreasonable invasion by child welfare
agencies.

Most states are wrestling with the same basic question embodied by
the Jensen case. Can child welfare services become responsible and
respectful of parental rights, or is it time to eliminate the system
and start anew? And while the continuously erupting scandals,
abuses, failings and incompetence of state child welfare agencies
has convinced most that change is necessary, government and parental
advocates disagree as to the direction and scope of change. Should
procedures be reformed or is fundamental change necessary?

The last session of the Utah Legislature illustrates this disagreement.

Carried by a surge of support for parental rights, over 30 bills to
reform Utah's child welfare system were introduced in the Utah
Legislature's 2004 general session. Cumulatively, they strengthened
parental rights and restrained the DCFS. One measure, known as "The
Parker Bill," required the DCFS to prove a parent was not a
"reasonable, prudent and fit caregiver" before nullifying that
parent's right to decide medical treatment for his or her child.

Fifteen bills were finally approved, but the most ambitious measures
were either defeated or stripped of controversial provisions. For
example, the Parker Bill did not pass.

To kill The Parker Bill, Utah's Democrats reportedly used delay
tactics, running a vote up to the end of the session.

The Salt Lake Tribune reported on House Bill 266, which would have
"changed more than 50 areas of child welfare codebeginning with
redefining what abuse is and ending with a tougher standard of proof
needed in terminating parents' rights." Rewritten five times with
over 30 pages deleted, the bill also did not pass.

Director of the DCFS Richard Anderson expressed pleasure, saying,
"The bills that passed are ones that help the system." In short,
most of the bills reformed procedure within the system, without
changing the system itself.

Some procedural changes were significant. For example, H.B. 54
requires that all investigative interviews with children be
"videotaped or similarly recorded."

Advocates of parental rights pledged to continue fighting. Sandra
Lucas, executive director of the Utah Chapter of the Citizen's
Commission on Human Rights stated, "We will not go away. We will be
back until we shift the balance back [to respect for parents]."
Republican Sen. Dave Thomas, who championed the bills, referred to
the Democrat's delay tactics when he vowed, "expect to see something
next year."

Advocates of parental rights face a tough battle in Utah and
elsewhere. They confront huge government bureaucracies at both the
federal and state levels that will not surrender authority easily.
Collectively, the behemoth has been called "the child welfare
industry." It consists of social workers, judges, bureaucrats,
politicians, lawyers, therapists, commentators and others whose
income depends on a system that views parents with suspicion. In
crassly commercial terms, abused and neglected children are the
source of a multibillion-dollar industry.

Yet, the need for changeand not just in Utahis clear. Tragic
headlines about foster children are too common. One of the latest is
Florida's current investigation of a 10-year-old girl, reportedly
"at risk of imminent death." She weighed only 29 pounds after four
years in the custody of assigned caregivers who were regularly
visited by DFCS workers.

Other children were not so fortunate: 4-year-old Anthony Bars was
beaten to death by an approved caregiver who had a known battery
conviction against his own daughter. The Indiana caseworker involved
was charged with "official misconduct and falsifying information in
an adoption proceeding."

Both government and families acknowledge the need for change. Last
month, a grand jury in California called for an independent audit of
Child Welfare Services' top management, which it described as
"heavy-handed" and "autocratic." The grand jury questioned whether
the department is "properly protecting children."

A June 8 press release from the American Family Rights Association
reads, "During the Congressional hearings held in San Bernardino,
and the more recent hearings before the Texas House Interim
Sub-Committee on Child Welfare and Foster Care, irrefutable evidence
was presented of abuses of authority and violations of civil rights
by state agencies nationwide in the pursuit of 'maximization of the
federal funding stream'." (States receive federal money for every
child placed in foster care.)

Many eyes are now on Utah's new Parent Czar to see if she makes a
difference to parents like the Jensens. Skeptics wonder how adding a
new layer of bureaucracy can solve problems caused by too much
bureaucracy. And can an office that functions under the same aegis
as those it is accusing really be independent?

I'm a skeptic. Nevertheless, if the Parent Czar is even marginally
successful in abating criticism of the DCFS, we are likely to see
more czars popping in child welfare departments across North America.